


It's Better This Way, It Suits You

by Miss_Molliarty



Series: Unexpected Affections [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-22
Updated: 2011-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Molliarty/pseuds/Miss_Molliarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes is going to have to fight to get what he needs instead of using his charms on Molly Hooper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Better This Way, It Suits You

Only two days after Molly had seen Jim Moriarty for the very last time, she decided it was time to go back to work. The flat was becoming encapsulating and she needed to get out or else go stir crazy. The two days before Molly had done a lot of thinking, soul searching and she was better for it. She knew who she was; a professional who excels at her job. Oh, she would still be the cute girl, the one who would go for a pint with her college mates after work, watch Glee on her setee with Toby curled at her feet. However, when in the mortuary, it was her domain and she was determined to keep it that way from that moment on. No interloping detectives, consulting or otherwise, coming in and disturbing the organized peace she had created. They were on her territory and they would abide by her rules.

Molly suspected she would have some trouble when Sherlock Holmes would stride into her mortuary, barking out demands like he always did. Though Molly had been looking forward to not giving in to those demands. Sherlock would have to satisfy himself with her lengthy reports, as they had gotten more detailed since Molly had returned. As well, she was comforted by the fact that John would keep his companion in check, to a certain extent. Dr. Watson seemed a very nice fellow to Molly. He was always kind to her and even stuck up for her when Sherlock was being an arrogant arse. He also seemed to have a girlfriend, Sarah. From what Molly could determine from the blog post from Sarah she was just as concerned about John as she had been about Jim, at the time. It was oddly comforting to Molly to know John had someone in his life other than his flatmate.

A couple more days passed and Molly worked diligently, putting more effort into her work and she had begun to see a change in her colleagues. They seemed to come to her more when there were issues, they gave her more respect and even some of the surgeons and other doctors would regard her with higher admiration than she was used to. The mousy girl from weeks ago was still present in Molly's brain and she would often revert back to being that girl when she was alone, smiling to herself when she would realize how far she had come.

Later on in the afternoon one day, Molly heard a familiar voice from outside the mortuary, one that had been demanding to see her. "Oh Lord..." Molly sighed and shook her head but returned her gaze to the microscope as John walked in first. Briefly she prayed, to anyone in particular who would listen, that hopefully Sherlock hadn't been influenced by too much pain medication to remember her warning that she would respond to none of his flattery from that point on. Or so help him.

"Hullo Molly. Just a warning, he's in a rare mood today."  
"So he's fully recovered then? Wonderful." Molly smiled at John when he laughed at her little joke and obvious sarcasm.  
"It's um, 's good to see you back here. We had a rough time with your replacement, though I think he had the worse end of it after Sherlock was done with him."  
Molly winced and sucked in a breath through her teeth. "Oh... yes, poor Tim. He wasn't prepared for that. He quit actually."  
"What?" John wasn't really that surprised, but it seemed funny to him that Molly's temp would quit after one dose of Sherlock Holmes.  
"Yes. Gone. Some would probably say he was the smart one for quitting." She smiled and looked up from the microscope over at John who was standing right in front of her report. "Pardon me." she said sweetly, moving around him.  
"Oh! Sorry... sorry." John moved back so Molly could finish her report, itching the back of his ear nervously until the door swung open and Sherlock Holmes waltzed in.

"Molly, good to have you back. That Tim was rubbish."  
"He quit." John said quickly. "Good show mate."  
"Oh.... well, good."

Molly rolled her eyes while she wrote down her findings in the lengthy report, not once turning around to greet Sherlock. She was waiting patiently to hear what he needed that time.

"Any coffee Molly?"  
"Cream and sugar thanks." She said cheerily, still not looking up.  
"I meant here, for me."  
"No. I'm not psychic Sherlock, and the coffee's in the canteen. Same place as it's always been."

The detective was oddly stunned and John stifled a chuckle disguised as a cough. Sherlock could tell that Molly had changed. He didn't know what had brought it on, but it piqued his interest. There was no extra push for her to fetch him coffee, instead his eyes narrowed and focussed on a faded, barely visible bruise on her wrist.

He circled her for a moment, trying to deduce what had brought about the change in her demeanor. There were stacks and stacks of finished reports when before the stacks were of unfinished reports. The mortuary was more organized. It was always clean, it was a requirement, however things had been moved for greater efficiency. Molly herself had dressed more professionally; less frills on her blouse, her hair was in soft waves but pulled back at the sides, and she was wearing... heels. Molly's skirt was black and her blouse was plain but a bold shade of dark bergundy, a power colour. This had not been the Molly he was used to.

Sherlock was snapped from his reverie by Molly sighing as she turned to meet his eyes directly. "Is there something you needed, or are you just here to hover around my mortuary like a vulture?" That gesture, that direct question was off-putting to the detective as well. She never looked him in the eyes without blushing immediately afterward, she didn't fidget, she only stood and waited for his answer.

You're different

"The body that came in last night. Buxton. I need to have a look at it."  
"Already been processed." Molly said brusquely and grabbed at the last file in her in-tray.

John watched the play-by-play with extreme interest and entertainment. He didn't seem to know this Molly either. There was a brief question in his mind as to what had happened after their tea a few days prior. There was no way he could've induced such a drastic transformation. There had to have been something else.

"I still need to see it Molly." Sherlock grew impatient and loomed over her.  
Molly stuck out a hand, laid it on his chest and slowly pushed him back a few inches, regaining her personal space, only glancing at him afterwards, his mouth agape in surprise. "And I've just said that it's already been processed. If you'd like you can read my report. It's over there on the out-tray." John's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he bit at his lower lip. _This is better than the cinema._

Sherlock stood stunned and stared at the spot where Molly had forcibly moved him backwards.

"Molly.... I really must insist that..."  
She looked up at him pointedly and spoke with a polite smile on her face that was reminiscent of her old demeanor.  
"You may insist all you want Sherlock. It doesn't change the fact that I've done all the work, everything you would need is in that report and I suggest you start reading and analyzing the photographs. It is rather long."  
Sherlock's jaw clenched but thought better of advancing on her.  
"If you needed to see the body, you should've arrived sooner. If that had been the case I would have been happy to oblige. But the work is done so you'll have to either trust my report..." she looked up at him once more with an eyebrow raised "... or jog on."

That time John had laughed out loud, drawing a glare from his companion. His lips pursed and he was all ready to try to intimidate Molly into letting him see the body when she walked over, picked up the report herself and stood in front of him, smiling.

"I don't have time to read your report.... Molly. I need to see the body."  
"You could've been halfway done by now if you'd quit your grousing. This is my mortuary and I'll not be intimidated, bribed, flattered or any other means you'd like to employ to try and see the body. It's a very thorough report." She poked his middle with the file before John took it from between them.

"Got it, I've got it... come on Sherlock."  
"But John you can't possibly.... we're on a deadline!" He nearly shouted at Molly who remained calm the whole time.  
"Then I suggest, you read quickly." Molly turned back to her work with not so much as a second glance. Sherlock fumed by the door as he was dragged away by John.

Retreating to the canteen, Sherlock paced back and forth muttering to John quietly.

"She can't do this. I need to see that body, it's of vital importance that I analyze it."  
"Sit down and shut up for a moment please, you're making me dizzy."  
"I can't."  
"Yes, you certainly can. There's a chair and you have an arse, so sit." John placed a cup of coffee on the table as an incentive.

Sherlock was not happy at all. Noisily, he sipped at his coffee and drained the cup immediately afterward, unable to calm his temper. John meanwhile read the report which was more thorough than he could have expected. It was complete with all pathology and toxicology reports, photographs, time of death, cause of death, stomach contents, trauma... it was all there. Even down to the fact that Mr. Buxton had apparently played football when he was younger owing to the bare spots on his shins where the guards would have rubbed against the skin, thus deterring the ".... hair growth. My god."

"What, what is it?" Sherlock flicked his hand through the back of his hair and regarded John's amazement.  
"This report is ... well it's amazingly detailed."  
"Let me see." The consulting detective made a grab for it but John pulled back and scowled at him.  
"Thought you didn't have time for Molly's report."  
"Well... if she's keeping me from seeing the body, I have no other bloody choice now do I?"  
John smiled and handed Sherlock the report. "Thank you."

The report was read through quickly and, not that Sherlock would admit it out loud but, it was good work... very good work indeed.  
"Well?"  
"Well what?"  
"Did that answer the question you had about the dirt that you needed to see?"  
".... Yes."  
"And the blunt trauma you thought may appear post-mortem."  
Sherlock squirmed in his seat and cracked his long lean neck. "Yes! Alright. Yes. It was... factual and... informative."  
"Then you should tell her as such and... it might be a stretch for you, I know, but maybe you should stop with the flattery and intimidation tactics with Molly. She's very helpful and it's odd but, she's changed. You could try appealing to her, one professional to another and giving her the respect she obviously deserves."

Bits of Styrofoam littered the table from Sherlock's picking at his empty cup while he thought. He had still been dwelling on the bruise on Molly's wrist. Had she been influenced. Was this sudden change caused by Jim Moriarty? Had he recruited Molly to work for him? No. Even Molly couldn't be capable of that. She was just more..... well, _more_. Resignedly, he rose from his seat, knowing John was right but didn't voice it.

John fell behind when Sherlock had marched back to the mortuary and returned Molly's file to her, only to find that she'd wheeled the body out anyway.

"What is this now?" He asked incredulously.  
"The coroner needed another look."  
"The coroner!!! How is the coroner's request over mine..... nevermind!" He said through clenched teeth. He knew what she was going to say and she was only following protocol. Sherlock was just put out.  
"You can have a look now if you like."  
"No need." Sherlock replied with a testy barb near the end.  
"Oh? Really. So what you needed to know was in my report then?"  
"Yes." A curt response and a broad grin from John made Molly smile sweetly in return.  
"Glad I could help. I'm on all this next week at seven am. I suggest if you'd like to see the bodies yourself that you meet me here at that time, otherwise I can't guarantee a viewing. Productivity has escalated around here recently."

Sherlock whirled on his heel with an awkward look on his face and John mouthed the words 'Nice job!' to Molly when Sherlock's back was turned. She grinned back and met Sherlock's gaze when he immediately spun around again. "Thank you ... Molly, for the advance notice on your shifts and the... report. Very thorough." It was a rare, real compliment and Molly took it graciously.

"You're very welcome Sherlock. You know how much I like to be of use." It was true and Molly finally thought she was getting the tiniest bit of respect, it made her feel that much more empowered.

"One last thing though."  
"Mhmm?" Molly muttered while signing her last report for the day and looked up at him.  
"Where did you get that bruise? On your wrist."

Without skipping a beat, Molly grinned and said "Sex."  
"Excuse me?" That one did really shock him... and John as well, whose ears turned pink at the admission.  
"Sex. The bloke I shagged a few nights ago liked it rough. And so did I. Hence the bruise." She let her blatant lie sink in before cheerily asking "Any more questions?"  
"Uuuum, no, that will.... do. Thank You. John?"  
"Errr, yeah, coming."

Molly knew that Sherlock would be unnerved to continue that line of conversation, it was an easy way to get him off of her case so she wouldn't reveal that it had been Jim's hands that caused the bruising. She had promised him that their visit would remain a secret and she planned on keeping it.

John straggled behind even after Sherlock had left. "Are you really alright Molly?"  
"Oh yes John. Better than I've been in a long time." She touched his shoulder lightly when she walked past him to fetch her pen.  
"If you ever want to, well talk about, things, with a friend you know you can always call me?"  
"I know and I really appreciate it."  
"Good. That's good. I'll see you around yer?"  
Molly giggled and flashed John a bright smile. "Bye John... you'd better hurry, he's probably halfway to a cab by now."  
"Right. Have a good day Molly."  
"You too."

The moment passed and John was gone. Once he was, the other Molly, the bubbly, girly Molly let herself out. She spun round in her chair once and laughed, feeling incredibly empowered and happy that she'd finally laid down the ground rules for her turf. Respect felt really good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at 221B Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes sat perched in his favourite chair, his fingers folded as if in prayer and his eyes narrowed to nearly invisible slits.

John came huffing up the stairs with milk and other items from the shop. “You know you could’ve waited for me... or you know, gotten the milk yourself, for once.” He hastily put everything in the fridge and Sherlock hadn’t moved a millimeter.

“What is it now?”  
“Molly.”  
“What about her?”  
“Too sudden a change.”  
“She has been through a lot too you know. The bloke she was dating.... turned out to be a bigger threat than just being gay and ending their relationship. Trauma does different things to different people.”  
“I suppose you could be right.”  
John shot a look at Sherlock over the corner of the newspaper he’d just begun to read.  
Thankfully though, for Molly’s sake, Sherlock’s train of thought had been derailed by a call from Lestrade. There had been another murder... at a sweets shop but something was off about it.

“Fine yes, I’ll be down shortly. Is the body still there? No? Fine. No I’ll be at Bart’s at 7am tomorrow.”

Sherlock shut his phone off, stepped over the coffee table and picked up his violin, all the while John’s newspaper shook with silent laughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, Jim Moriarty sat in his private safe house in front of a computer screen. He was grinning like a cheshire cat and listening to a recording....

 _'...so you'll have to either trust my report...or jog on!'_

There was a low chuckle eminating from Jim's chest and a genuine smile on his face when he hit 'replay' for the third time on the surveillance tape.

It was meant for her protection. He would always have eyes and ears on her, even though they weren't his. In that moment though, he adored her that much more.

"That's my girl."


End file.
